Jewels
by newbatgirl
Summary: Everything about her screams practicality. Except her jewelry.


AN: This is my first Bones fic. I've seen a little over half of the Season One Episodes but there are some gaps. If I get anything wrong let me know. This is just a one shot anyway so there shouldn't be too many pitfalls.

A couple of questions have come up in FB that I should respond to. First, the Navajo is real, or as real as I can make it, not being a native speaker. I verified my word choices with a number of online sources.

Secondly, the cross pendant is not a crucifix, it's more of a stylized cross, decorated with beading, something pretty popular in southwestern jewelry design. It was not intended to have religious significance for Brennan.

Thanks for the reviews.

**Title: Jewels**

**Author: newbatgirl**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: Brenth friendship, slight romance.**

Summary: Everything about her screams no-nonsense practicality. Except her jewelry. Inspired by stills of Brennan's character from Season One that show her wearing cool accessories.

_The Jeffersonian Lab…_

They were technically in the middle of a case. The had gotten tip about a collection of bones buried under a razed strip mall in North Jersey that may be the victims of a mob hit that took place back in the eighties.

They had shipped the collection to the Jeffersonian, and more precisely, to Dr. Brennan to see if the ages, genders, and condition of bones matched their victims. Booth was the FBI's liaison with Bones and her team.

There was no rush however, as most of the suspected masterminds of the hit were already in jail for other crimes or dead. The FBI brass wasn't exactly breathing down their necks. It was a refreshing change.

Still, a case was a case, and Booth stopped in every other day or so to check on their progress and generally make a pest of himself to the team.

The funny thing was, the squints were getting used to his pestering, and they even seemed to enjoy it. Zach smiled and greeted him politely. Goodman still grunted wordlessly but made sure his parking credentials were always up to date. Hodgkins stopped asking him about government conspiracies. Angela joked/flirted with him and Bones… Bones was Bones.

The beat went on.

This time, however, he wasn't coming simply to make a pest of himself, although if he managed to slip a little of that in, he'd be pretty proud of himself.

""I'm heading out of town for a little while," he said, when Bones looked up from her desk the minute he appeared in her doorway.

"Where are we going?" she asked bluntly.

"We're not going anywhere. I have to go out of town on a case. I just came to tell you so you could call Cullen if anything breaks on this mob thing."

Brennan looked bewildered and even…disappointed? It could be his imagination. "On a case? I don't need to go?"

"It's a different kind case."

"What kind of case?"

"I can't talk about it."

"Right, of course." She looked embarrassed and she shook her head abruptly, as if she was trying to clear it. The bronze-colored earrings dangling from her ears swung in response. Booth found his eyes drawn to them.

"What?" she asked and he realized he'd been staring

"Nothing…um, nice earrings."

"Thanks. I bought them in Guatemala. How long will you be gone?"

"A week or so. Maybe more, maybe less. You never know for sure." Booth extracted a small card from his front pocket. "Here's Cullen's number. You can call him if…"

"If I get a break on the mob case. I got it." She reached for the card and her bracelet, also bronze, and with oddly-shaped charms dangling from it, rattled from her wrist.

Booth realized the noise was familiar to him. Even when they were in the field, Brennan herself might move quietly but the ever-changing catalogue of accessories she wore didn't. She rattled, pinged, rustled. The only time she took of her jewelry altogether was when she was in the lab working on a sensitive specimen and she couldn't take a chance that her accouterments would hinder or hurt the examination.

It was oddly endearing.

Almost everything about Dr. Temperance Brennan screamed practicality, sensibility, and a virtually all-consuming focus on her work. The way she spoke, the way she planned, and organized, what she did and did not know about pop culture - everything was strictly no-nonsense.

Except the fact that she seemed to possess an entire gypsy-bazaar's worth of funky, jewelry.

It was certainly odd and it was certainly endearing.

Here she was, rattling like a tambourine with her hair scraped back and wearing the drab Jeffersonian jumpsuit…and it fit. Somehow it made sense on her.

"Anyway, I have a plane to catch so…I guess I'll see you when I get back?"

She nodded silently, shuffling some papers around on her desk and Booth turned to leave.

"Booth?"

"Yeah?" He turned the instant he heard her voice, it was quieter and even huskier than normal.

"Be careful."

He could not resist teasing her. "You're not worried about me, are you, Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes…No! I…don't think Cullen likes me very much. It's just easier working with you."

"That has to be the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Bones. Now what does _that_ say about our relationship?"

"Leave."

"Leaving."

As he passed Angela's desk, Booth realized, somewhat belatedly, that he was grinning like an idiot. Angela shot him a knowing look and he immediately corrected himself and went on the defensive.

Pointing his index finger at her, he said, "Don't even start."

"Who, me?"

B+B+B+B+B+B

_Two weeks later…midday_

Temperance Brennan walked through the class doors of the lab headed towards her office where she caught sight of her coworkers gathered around a table discussing something. They seemed pretty happy…not that they weren't usually happy…they just weren't usually this animated, unless Booth was around. And he hadn't been around, not for two full weeks. Not that it bothered Brennan. Okay, it didn't bother her _much_.

The fact was, it was way too quiet without Booth around. She had gotten used to working with his constant questions, quips and wisecracks in the background. She gotten used to him showing up unexpectedly for updates on active cases or to just to annoy her and the "squints." She had gotten used to constantly being interrupted in the middle of her already busy schedule to go chase down criminals with him.

Without him around, things were kind of…dull.

And she didn't even know where he was. Or if the case he was on was dangerous. If something happened to him, would anyone tell her? Maybe the FBI only knew to call Rebecca and Parker in case of emergency. Did they know to call her too?

As soon as the thought went through her head, she frowned. Why should they call her? What was she to Booth? They were colleagues, perhaps on the verge of being friends…but you couldn't exactly put "almost friends" on an emergency contact form.

Giving in to her curiosity, she walked over to the table to see what her colleagues were discussing.

"Hey guys, what's up?" At last she noticed that they all were holding gift bags.

"Where did all this stuff come from?"

The other three exchanged looks and Angela finally answered, "From Booth…um…he's back from his trip and he stopped by to drop off these gifts for us. You were in that meeting so…"

"He didn't need to…talk to me about anything?"

Zach chewed his lip. "He said he was in a bit of hurry. I'm sure he'll come back later if you need to see him."

"I don't need to see him." Brennan replied, perhaps a bit too sharply. Then she fingered Angela's bag. "Anyway, what did you get?"

Angela's face brightened and she pulled a large hardcover book of the bag. "It's book on great artists of the Southwest. Apparently he was in New Mexico."

Brennan's eyes widened. She had been expecting a t-shirt or box of candy; this book looked expensive and it was genuinely something Angela was interested in. Why was Booth giving Angela such a well-thought out present?

She turned to Zach, who was showing her the large gourmet sampler of Southwestern foods Booth has selected for him: hot sauces, chilies, chips, and other snacks. Zach loved spicy food. His gift was perfect as well.

Brennan then turned to Hodgkins. "And what about you?" Hodgkins opened his bag. He had a book as well, though it was smaller than Angela's and the title read "Insect Life in the Southwestern U.S." In addition, there was a small box in the bag that upon closer inspection turned out to be a real scorpion preserved in amber with its scientific name engraved on the base. Exactly what someone would buy for Hodgkins.

Booth found her voice. "Did he saw what he occasion was?"

"He just said he wanted to show some appreciation for his favorite squints. Then he said he had to go…." Hodgkins replied, looking worried. "Look, Brennan, I'm sure he'll--"

"That was really nice of him," Brennan interrupted. "You guys should be sure to thank him when he comes back. I'm going to go get some work done."

She turned on her heel and walked to her office as briskly as she could without actually running and looking like an overeager child. But when she reached her office the only items on her desk were the piles of paper she had left there herself. No bag, no box, no gift for her from Booth.

Her heart sank.

This was ridiculous; she didn't need gifts from Booth. He probably figured that buying her something would only embarrass her and he had wisely only purchased presents for the "other squints" as he put it. It was really very astute of him.

She sniffed and flopped into her chair.

Really, quite astute.

B+B+B+B+B+B

_Later that night…Brennan's apartment…_

Brennan stared that the cursor blinking in the corner of the otherwise blank word-processing screen. She was supposed to be working on the next chapter of her book but she had spent the better part of the evening staring mindlessly at the screen or distracting herself with mundane tasks around the house.

Oh well, at least the bathroom was now clean. And the dishwasher was loaded. But she couldn't exactly hand those items over to her publisher in lieu of an overdue chapter.

The fact was, she was stalled on the relationship between her main character and the male lead in the book. They were locked in some kind of dance and Brennan had no idea how to take them to the next level, even though her publisher assure her that that's exactly what her readers wanted to see.

Brennan wasn't so sure. Her main character was good the way she was, wasn't she? She had a lot of responsibilities; did she need to add a man to all of that? Her fans might want to see them get together but did they really understand what it meant to the characters?

The fact that Brennan still had a nagging feeling in her belly about apparently being overlooked by Booth that day was also cluttering her mind and preventing her from writing. For the rest of the day, she convinced herself that Booth not bringing her a present or even sticking around to talk to her wasn't a big deal. He knew she didn't like surprises. He knew presents embarrassed her. He knew she was busy and he was probably busy too, having been away a long and all. He probably had a ton of work to catch up on, not to mention seeing Parker…

It shouldn't bother her that Seeley Booth wouldn't wait around the Jeffersonian just to argue with her…

Except she sort of liked it when he did just that.

A knock on her door broke her from her thoughts. Then she realized the knock at the familiar rhythm that Booth used to indicate it was him.

Booth?

At this time of night?

Okay, it wasn't that late but usually when he showed up at this time of night, they had a case or something… Then Brennan had a sudden thought.

If Angela called him to say that she was upset over the present thing, she was going to _kill_ her.

Booth knocked again and Brennan took a deep breath. She might as well let him in.

B+B+B+B+B+B

Booth rapped his knuckles against the wooden door again being careful to use the correct rhythm. He knew that Brennan was home. Her car was out front and he'd seen the living room light on from outside. She was probably writing. She had mentioned something a few weeks ago about being near the decline for he next set of chapters.

He didn't want to interrupt her if she'd been on a roll but…it had been two weeks, after all.

Finally she pulled open the door and the smile faded from his face. She looked…upset.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"Is that how you greet all of your guests or just me?"

"Sorry…it's just, I wasn't expecting you."

"Is this a bad time?" He instinctively looked beyond her into the apartment, praying that he wouldn't see another man there.

"No, not really…I was just trying to write."

"I can go if you want me to." Booth offered, knowing damn well that he really didn't mean it.

"Don't leave…I mean, I was trying to write but I wasn't exactly succeeding…" Her voice trailed off. Booth followed her gaze and realized that she had noticed the small gift bag in his right hand.

"If I say this is for you, can I come in?"

Wordlessly, Brennan stepped back to allow him into the apartment. Even as she closed the door, her eyes were still fixed on the bag.

"You didn't think I forgot you, did you?"

Brennan shook her head.

"What, did you think I'd buy presents for the squints and get nothing for you?"

She shrugged, her cheeks turning pink.

"God, Bones! That's what you thought, isn't it? Do you really think I'm that much of an ass?"

"No! I just thought that maybe you thought I didn't want a present."

"You don't want a present?"

"I didn't say that I didn't want the present, I just said that I thought that you thought that I didn't want a present."

"Well, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"You know what? Just take the damn bag, Bones, because we're going to be here all night if we keep this up." He thrust the bag at her with alacrity.

She stared at the bag for a few seconds then said. "You know you didn't have to do this."

"Open the damn present, Bones."

"Okay, okay." She rounded the coffee table and set the bag on it next to her laptop. She began pulling tissue paper out carefully.

Booth shifted on his feet, suddenly unsure if this was a good idea or not. "I didn't leave it with the squints, because…well, you know Angela. The whole building would know what was in the bag before you did." Plus, it gave him an excuse to stop by her apartment at night and find her looking all soft and casual in jeans and a plain white shirt and her hair down. Ahem...anyway…

"And, besides…I wasn't sure if you'd be embarrassed that I bought you what's in the bag. I don't think I'm _technically_ supposed to buy you stuff like this."

Brennan's hands froze at his words and she looked up at him with a warning in her eyes.

Booth read the look immediately.

"I swear to God, there's no lingerie in that bag. It's just some things I saw in New Mexico that reminded me of you…so I bought them."

Brennan still looked suspicious as she pulled a long, narrow velvet box out of the nest of tissue paper.

She shot him a reproving look as she recognized that the box could only hold jewelry.

"Booth…I can't--"

"You'll get over it. Now c'mon, open it."

She snapped open the box and gingerly lifted out the necklace it contained. The box contained matching earrings as well.

It was a sterling silver chain, and on it hung a delicate silver cross pendant decorated with brightly colored semi-precious stones. The jewelery maker had named the stones for Booth. They included coral, peridot, hemitate, amethyst, two kinds of turquoise, and lapis, among others. The earrings were silver posts that had the same kinds of stones hanging off them on thinner pieces of silver. They would dangle and move when she moved – and probably distract the Hell out of him -- just like the other pairs she owned.

"Booth…they're… I don't know what to say…"

_That_ wasn't a good sign, Booth thought. Brennan always had something to say. Maybe she didn't like them. Maybe she didn't realize that these weren't just gift shop trinkets. So he sat next to her on the couch and started to explain.

"They're the real deal, you know… I wouldn't buy you the tourist-crap they sell at the airport. I got these from this old Navajo woman who makes them herself and I told her they had to be one a kind, because the stuff you wear is always unique. She found me this and the earrings that go with it… I even asked her the names of all the stones because I thought you might want to know that. She wrote them down…" He fished in his pocket for the folded piece of paper that contained the old woman's careful printing and held it up for her. "See? She wrote them in English and in Navajo. I can't say that I know exactly how to pronounce all these right but I know what goes with what. That stone there is…"

"Booth….

"…well, they call it white buffalo turquoise but that seems kind of oxymoronic to me…"

"Booth!"

He looked up from the necklace in her hand and realized that she had been trying to say something. And that he had been rambling. "Yeah?"

"Why'd you do this?"

"Why? I…wanted to get you something and I know that you like jewelry that's out of the ordinary so when I saw this stuff, it reminded me of you."

"You've noticed what kind of jewelry I wear?"

What kind of question was that? "Well, ye-ah. There was the whole thing in New Orleans with your mom's earring but even without that…of course I would notice your jewelry. Anyway, I know you don't usually wear silver that but the Navajo lady said…"

"Booth?"

Now what! "What? What's the matter? You don't like it? You already have something like it?"

"Just be quiet for a second, okay?" she commanded and Booth snapped his mouth shut. That's when he noticed her wiping her eyes.

When she was done, she lifted the necklace from the box and held it out to him.

"Can you help me put it on?"

Okay. So maybe she liked it after all.

Booth nodded and gingerly took the necklace from her shifted on the couch to turn her back to him. He then swallowed hard when she swept her hair off to the side and leaned back a bit, her bare neck arched towards him.

His large fingers fumbled with the tiny clasp for a few seconds before he managed to free it. Then he held his breath as he brought his arms around her to drape it around her neck. There was more fumbling as he re-hooked the clasp while trying to ignore how the warm skin of her neck felt under his fingers. Finally he was done. Suddenly feeling bold, he swept the mass of silky brown hair back into place on her shoulders; not allowing her to do it herself. He didn't get many chances to touch her hair; he might as well take them as they came.

"There. All done."

"Not quite," she replied. She reached into the box again and titled her head to hastily slip the earrings into place. Then she turned back to face him. "Now I'm done."

Finally, Booth realized why she had been wiping her eyes. It hardly seemed possible -- which was why it had taken so long for him to figure it out. Brennan was crying. She was actually crying. It took a great deal to make Brennan cry. He should know.

The jewelry looked amazing on her. The silver metal and brightly colored stones stood out beautifully against her dark hair. And the necklace's pendant was showcased nicely by the paleness of her skin and her white shirt.

Just like the rest of her collection of slightly funky and very unique pieces, these pieces fit her.

"So I guess this means you like them?" he asked, trying to lighten the moment.

She hesitated slightly, then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I love them. They're perfect. It's the best present I've gotten in a long time."

Booth was so distracted by feel of Brennan's arms wrapped around him that he almost forgot to react and hug her back. He corrected that immediately; bringing his own arms up around her. Then he almost didn't hear what she said. When the words registered, he sighed in relief.

"Good, I thought you might be mad at me or giving you sometime like this."

"Contrary to what you might think, I'm not always mad at you, Booth."

"Really?"

She pulled back and suddenly their faces were inches apart.

He waited. She looked at his eyes. Then his mouth. Then his eyes again.

Finally she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. It was quick and she pulled away immediately, flushing pink.

He got the message. She felt something but she wasn't ready.

As she pulled back, the paper crackled between them where Booth had dropped it to his lap to fasten the necklace.

"So can you even pronounce any of these words?" she asked, lifting the sheet.

"Some of them. The lady who made the jewelry was nice enough to give me a crash course in Navajo vowels."

"That was really nice of her."

"Yeah well, I can be charming, you know…" Booth said, injecting some arrogance into his voice.

Brennan rolled her eyes as she fingered the pendant. "Seriously, what did you say to this woman?"

Booth felt his own face darkening. "I told her that…you loved learning new things so whatever she could tell me about the necklace that I could pass on to you would be part of the present."

Brennan's face got all funny again, and she started rubbing at her eyes. "Damn you…you really can be sweet when you want to be."

"You doubted this?"

Looking somewhat embarrassed, she shifted closer to him on the sofa and unexpectedly rested her head against his shoulder. With one hand fingering the necklace, she sniffled and indicated a word on the sheet with her thumb

"So how do you pronounce this one?"

"That's pronounced lichii, I think. It means red."

"And this?'

"Ligai. White."

"And how about this one?"

She was now pointing to a word scrawled across the bottom of the page. There were no English words next to it, to indicate that it was a color or the name of a stone.

"That's shik'is. It means my friend." Booth replied.

Brennan made a noise in her throat, then looped her free hand through the crook of his arm. With her head still on his shoulder, she said, "I like that word."

"Me, too."

The End.

* * *


End file.
